Seneca,
a Roman dramatist and philosopher once said, ‘There is no great
genius without some touch of madness’. Those of us who use our
free time studying and listening to the works of very dead
people will know that Robert Schumann spent the last years of
his life in a lunatic asylum near Bonn. It was rumoured that he
suffered from syphillis, perhaps a contributory factor to his
descent into madness (Ed: probably tertiary neurosyphillis,
affecting the brain). Schumann had learned the cello in his
youth and thus nurtured a private affection for this instrument.
Several more works for cello and piano are said to exist ,
unfortunately destroyed by his wife Clara Schumann several
decades after his death.
Robert Schumann spent
but a mere two weeks composing the main body of the Cello
concerto in a minor, although he made countless revisions to the
work. It is unusual in that the three movements are a continuous
weave of material with no pauses and that the entire work lasts
only 25 minutes. Twenty five year old Danjulo Ishizaka, an
up-and -coming cellist of Japanese-German parentage, tackled
Schumann’s work on his alternate cello, not the 1696 “Lord
Aylesford” Stradivarius I was looking forward to - this was in
London for repairs – so it was not to be.
Ishizaka was recently awarded the internationally renowned "Prix
Young Artist of the Year" by a top-class jury, including Valery
Gergiev, Christoph Eschenbach and Mstislav Rostropovich.
It
is indeed amazing what leadership can do to an orchestra that
has been given low marks on occasion for its lack of discipline
and waywardness. George Cleve (right), guest conductor at the
SSO for several years, brought the members towards a structured
and regimented performance. Because Schumann’s cello concerto’s
core structure is introspective, without the bravura of other
works of this genre, it is relatively underappreciated and
probably the least played of the warhorses, a pity since
its beauty lies deep seated and requires concentration and
several hearings to yield its rewards. Most importantly, it
demands the interpretation of a sympathetic performer to bring
forth Schumann’s meaning and state of mind at the time of
composition.
This work’s first movement, marked Nicht zu schnell, (or
“not too fast”) opened wonderfully with a short pizzicato
strings and woodwinds introduction by the SSO, followed by
Ishizaka’s solo commanding entry, followed by a poetic theme
played tutti. It is to George Cleve’s credit that he
coaxed the orchestra into their performance with minimal
conducting during the performance. He appears to subscribe to
James Levine’s philosophy of getting the maximum output from the
orchestra with minimum gesture. The SSO was controlled and did
well to fit Ishizaka’s scholarly delivery. In the solo part,
Ishizaka displayed much creativity Schumann’s intent. Schumann
had meant for the work to be one of lugubrious resignation.
However Ishizaka’s enthusiastic attempt at relinquishment and
sobriety offered a curious clash – his fresh bearing and
articulation did not meld well with Schumann’s melancholic
designs.
Ishizaka
(left) and the SSO were more in their element in the second
movement, marked Langsam – Etwas lebhafter – Schneller (Slow
– Somewhat livelier – Faster), handled with fidelity by the
soloist and orchestra. The lush wind writing in the coda was
also handled beautifully by the SSO. The cadenza, placed by
Schumann at the last 3 minutes of the third movement, the
Sehr lebhaft (or “very lively”), could have benefited from a
more mature and profound approach to the music; Ishizaka’s
performance was too child-like.
This seeming lack of gravitas could be due both to Ishizaka’s
relative youth as well as from his using his alternate cello –
the Stradivarius could have produced better sonorities. Overall,
though, Ishizaka provided an irreproachable sense of
endeavour to the work, so kudos must
be forthcoming. Schumann himself was an accomplished critic in
his time - he would use pseudonyms such as Florestan and
Eusebius when the mood suited him to be critical or
complimentary respectively. I suspect the Eusebius in the
composer would have emerged if he were at the performance,
lauding young Ishizaka for his earnest attempt. Perhaps with
more mature interpretation will come with worldly experience and
continued diligence.
The SSO’s delivery of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 1 in C major was
exquisite. Again, I ascribe this to the artistry of George
Cleve. The first two movements, the Adagio molto – Allegro
con brio and the Andante cantabile con moto, were
finely laid out by the orchestra. Notable however was the SSO’s
sketch of the symphony’s rhythmic tempo in the minuet (Allegro
molto e vivace); it was beautifully accomplished, before
proceeding to the fourth movement, marked Adagio – Allegro
molto e vivace to a wonderful finish. The winds were given
prominence in this performance while Cleve’s direction was one
of carefully controlled vivacity – the delivery was suitably
subtle and bold when appropriate. The overall performance was
extremely polished; it could have held its own against the
performances from the world’s best orchestras. Bravo!
Ravel’s Le Tombeau de
Couperin was in tribute to his friends who had died during World
War I. Originally written for solo piano, Ravel orchestrated it
into four movements. Overall the SSO delivered an acceptable
rendition of the work. It was the same case with Rossini’s
Overture to the Silken Ladder – competent but uninspiring.
